Chapter 5 - The Light in the West Wing
The morning after the siege brought a bright, crisp autumn sky over Providence. The rain had washed the driveway clean, the broken chandelier in the foyer had been cleared away, and a team of workers was already fitting fresh, beautiful glass into the front doors.
Audrey sat at the small breakfast table in her new suite in the west wing.
It was no longer a cold, sterile room with four white walls. The room had been transformed over the past two weeks into a warm, comfortable two-bedroom apartment, complete with soft yellow curtains, a bookshelf filled with children’s storybooks, and a balcony overlooking the rose garden.
A knock sounded at the door.
Audrey opened it to find Jude standing in the hallway. He had changed into a simple black sweater and dark trousers, looking less like a mafia boss and more like a man who was finally letting himself rest.
"Good morning, Audrey," Jude said.
"Good morning, Mr. Mercer," Audrey smiled gently. "Is... is everything settled with the police?"
"Tristan has been officially transferred to federal custody in Boston," Jude reported, his hands in his pockets. "He will be facing federal conspiracy charges. You won't have to worry about him ever bothering you or Brinley again. My lawyers have already drawn up the divorce papers for you to sign whenever you are ready."
Audrey let out a long, quiet breath she felt like she had been holding for years. "Thank you, Jude. Truly."
It was the first time she had called him by his first name. Jude noticed, and a small, genuine smile touched the corner of his lips.
"Where is she?" Jude asked, looking into the room.
"She's in the garden with Webb," Audrey replied, stepping out into the hallway with him. "She insisted on helping him plant new yellow flowers near the front gate."
They walked down the grand staircase together, stepping out onto the sunlit patio.
In the distance, near the heavy black iron gates that had once looked so terrifying to Audrey, three-year-old Brinley was sitting in the green grass, holding a small plastic trowel, her yellow pajamas covered in soft garden dirt. Webb was kneeling beside her, laughing as she tried to plant a small yellow daisy right in the middle of the walkway.
Jude walked down the stone steps, his leather shoes making quiet sounds against the gravel, stopping right beside the small garden bed.
Brinley looked up, her face lighting up with pure joy the second she saw him.
"Mr. Jude!" Brinley shouted, scrambling to her feet and running toward him, her small, dirty hands reaching up. "Look! I planted a flower for the gate!"
Jude didn't hesitate. He dropped to one knee on the grass, completely unconcerned with the dirt getting on his trousers, and lifted the three-year-old up into his arms.
Brinley wrapped her small arms around his neck, pressing her soft cheek against his scarred face.
"Is it pretty?" Brinley asked, pointing at the crooked little yellow daisy sticking out of the dirt.
Jude looked at the flower, then at the iron gates that had stood cold and empty for twenty-five years. Beside the stone pillars, bright yellow petals were now blooming under the morning sun, softening the hard black iron.
May you like
"It's the prettiest thing this house has ever seen," Jude whispered, his voice rich with deep, undeniable emotion.
Audrey walked up beside them, resting her hand gently on Jude’s arm, looking at her daughter laughing in the arms of the man who had saved them both.
